Fire and Ice
by CastielAndTheBlueBox
Summary: After the fight of a lifetime, one that leaves Amy and Rory lost and broken beyond repair, their relationship ends and Amy finds herself pulled into a world that she'd never imagined, full of demons, ghosts and more. Dean had always thought it would only be he and Sam. He liked it that way, it was the way it always had been. And then a sassy, Scottish ginger blazed into his life.


Amy held the gun in her clammy hands, eyes flickering back and forth, breathing heavy. They'd gotten the lead on her, and she'd been thrown into a loop by them. With a groan, she pulled herself around the corner, trying to see what couldn't be seen (well, they _could_ be seen, technically, but they were _fast)._

She never should have looked too far into it. She was now on yet another monster she hadn't thought existed.

But werewolves, really? Wasn't that a bit Twilight? Just when she'd started thinking the monsters weren't as cheesy as movies made them out to be.

She barely even noticed the thing leaping at her, turning around when she heard a growl, but God, it was close, it was going to...

A shot rang out, shattering her thoughts, broken body of the beast crumpling to the ground with a yelp. Standing behind it was a young man, all big, green eyes and dark blond hair. She opened and closed her mouth again, not sure whether to thank him or be annoyed. She decided on the latter, pouting.

"I had it under control!" she said, waving her gun in the general direction of the werewolf, and the man (another hunter, she realized with a jolt) rolled his eyes.

"The word you're looking for, _sweetheart_, is 'thank you'." he retorted, and she folded her arms, shaking her head. 'Sweetheart'? She could _kill_ him. She _hated_ being called sweetheart.

"I don't know who you think you are, _honey,_ but I was perfectly fine." she replied, and the man snorted, kicking the body of the animal (though, Amy found with a disturbing jolt, she looked more human than animal).

"Yeah, sweetheart, I'm sure you did. Name's Dean Winchester." he replied, and she smirked, trying to make quick work of a fake name. She hardly trusted a man like him- certainly not straight away. She'd learned early on that trusting was a horrendous disadvantage, after a man she'd thought was on her side shot her in the shoulder. She replied with a bullet to the head, but it didn't mean she forgave him, or any of the other hunters for what they'd been doing.

"Don't call me sweetheart. Kylie Cole." she replied, holding out her hand, and Dean laughed again, standing up.

"That's not your name. Takin' names of singers and using them? Beginners' mistake, sweetheart." he responded, and she groaned. He was only doing it to annoy her at that point. She realized, with a jolt, that this was the first time she'd felt that fire since the Doctor, since Rory. Since the days she tried so hard to forget, but couldn't. The days that she knew would never leave her, that always lurked there, in her eyes, in the ways she still jumped every time she heard a noise in the night, and she shook her head.

"But you ain't a beginner." he continued, after a moment, studying her, and she frowned slightly, glancing up at him, finding his eyes glued to her face.

"What d'you mean?" she asked, and he folded his arms, getting up and leaning against a wall. For the first time, she let her mind vaguely wander to his _very nice_ biceps, and his eyes might be infuriatingly pretty, but they were... okay, he was hot. He continued to study her in turn for a few moments, drawing his lip slowly through his teeth.

"You've got in your eyes. Hunter's spirit... don't know if it's from a memory you've withheld, or what, but there's something there." he replied, and she barely repressed a laugh. Yeah, withheld memories... sounded about right, if she'd been able to withhold them. But she hadn't, he was there. Both of them, the Doctor and Rory. It was only at nights that she rememebered the days they'd dance around the TARDIS, laughing and joking. But the Doctor had left them to their 'normal' life, and he had his new companion now... 'Clara'. He didn't need Amy. Not any more. Not when he had someone else.

"Is that the last wolf?" she asked, changing the subject quickly, and he blinked, eyes breaking from her face.

"Yeah, should be. I'm gonna assume you got a couple, Sammy was curious as to how the ones in the warehouse and by the big house disappeared. He was getting the last of 'em, worked in a dog pound, of all places." he laughed, and Amy just sighed. Americans and their humour. She'd let him have it, she supposed.

"Sammy. Your... partner? Girlfriend?" she asked, with a small frown, and Dean choked, looking up at her in horror.

"Brother!" he retorted, muttering something about everyone thinking they were a couple. She raised her hands, letting out a huff of laughter.

"Alright, alright, brother!" she replied, and he nodded, pushing away from the wall, getting up in her personal bubble, and she glared at him as an infuriating smirk made it's way onto his lips.

"Gonna thank me for saving your life, sweetheart?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes, before grabbing two fistfuls and pulling him into a forceful kiss, letting it last a few seconds before pulling back. He stared at her, looking decidedly gobsmacked as she moved away.

Ha. Kiss-o-grams for the win.

"You still didn't give me a name." he replied, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, a half smile tilting her lips upwards.

"Amelia Pond. But I prefer Amy." she retorted, giving him a wink. She turned too quickly to see the flinch on his face before he nodded, and realized she'd left him alone with a werewolf body to dispose of.

* * *

_He'd said ghosts weren't real, the Doctor. But Amelia Pond had one in her house, and she was going to have to rid herself of that one. No ghostbusters in the real world._

* * *

Amy sighed when she got home, jeans and t-shirt quickly thrown in a bag to take the laundromat, pajamas slid into.

"Clearly my life will never be normal." she muttered to herself as she got over to bed, a creased, dog-eared copy of The Great Gatsby lying on her bedside table. But it wasn't that she reached for, no. Instead, it was the Bible that she picked up, flickering through it, whispering various prayers to herself. She'd never really been a believer, but having seen ghosts, and demons, and all sorts of things... there were things she justhad to do. Repentance, whatever they called it, that what she had to do.

Outside her window, an angel watched, his dark hair over one eye, it having grown in the last few months, a war worse than heaven had ever seen having broken out, and they had no leader. Amy Pond, a remarkable young woman, an anomaly, the only one who could save them all.

He spread his wings, flying away, the voices in his head chattering.

_They've met, it's happening. Destiny. Hope. Destiny._

_Hope._

Inside the room, Amy finally placed the book back where she'd gotten in, moving to the window and gazing out. America was much different from Leadworth, at least in the cities such as this one. Bright lights, flashing, terrifying but thrilling at the same time. She pressed a finger to the cold, moist glass and smiled, letting out a breath.

She'd left a life with Rory behind, a life that could have been... normal. But as she'd said, her life wasn't normal. It just sometimes took her a while to remember she didn't want it to be normal.

That night, instead of dreaming of the could-beens, the never-will-bes, of Melody and Rory, of the Doctor, she dreamed of green eyes, cocky smirks and a smooth voice attempting to out-sass her.

Little did she know that it wouldn't be long before their paths once again crossed.


End file.
